Quarantined
by Sayuri-2012
Summary: After being exposed to one of the most dangerous pathogens known to mankind, Olivia is forced to confront her feelings towards her old partner. An EO love story. Takes place after the season 15 premier but before the trial.
1. Chapter 1

1

She stared at the number splayed across the screen. Her pulse instantly quickened and she could feel the moisture building on her palms, causing her to almost drop her phone, as she struggled to take in what her eyes were telling her. Even though she had deleted his number six months ago, it seemed it was permanently imprinted on her memory. But why on earth was he suddenly calling now, after all this time? The temptation to answer was intense and her finger hovered over the key for a good few seconds, almost pressing down, almost inviting him back into her life. She couldn't help but acknowledge how much she wanted to hear his voice again. For a few brief seconds she allowed herself to imagine answering, hearing his sheepish apology, his confession that he had made a terrible mistake and how he wanted, needed her back in his life. But then she reminded herself of how three years ago he had just walked away without a single phone call, with zero explanation and of how she had found out the hard way that their partnership and friendship had obviously meant nothing to him, or at least not as much as she had believed it had. So she allowed the call to go to the answer machine.

He didn't leave a message.

Her mind raced with possible scenarios that could have led him to dialing her number. It was revealing in itself that he had kept it, although on reflection, it was highly possible he had mentally retained it in the same way she had his: they had been partners for over a decade after all. What could he have wanted? Why suddenly make contact now? Had something happened – to Kathy – to one of the children? She almost considered ringing him back at that thought, but she knew she couldn't. She had no desire to reopen old wounds. That man had hurt her more than she had known was even possible. She had moved on. She was happy. Life was pretty good in fact. Professionally she was making huge strides; her recent Sergeant's exam was a tremendous achievement, especially given how difficult it had been to sit down and concentrate on her books when her mind would so readily wander back to recent events and the upcoming trial. She had fought hard to focus on her goal, at times almost throwing in the towel, but ultimately her stubborn persistence had paid off. Moving in with her boyfriend had also been another huge step forward: for the first time in a long time she wasn't alone any more. It was a wonderful feeling. She had found herself thinking of her old partner less and less, particularly over the last year. _Until Lewis anyway._

She decided the reason behind his sudden call would be something she would have to live with never knowing. Too much time had passed. She had no intention of going down that road again. Sighing, she replaced her phone in her pocket, unhooked the door and stepped out of the car, forcing herself to concentrate on the reason she had come down here. One of the working girls in the area had reported another rape the night before and the SVU was worried that the violent nature of this latest attack was a sign of a perp who was escalating. The last thing they wanted was another string of unsolved prostitute rape-murders tarnishing the area. She knew a couple of the girls from a separate recent case, so even though Amaro was out of the state attending a national police procedural course, she had decided to come down alone to talk to them and find out everything she could about this new threat.

The girls congregated on a main road that was fairly well lit, so it wasn't too disconcerting to come down without a partner. She could have asked one of the others, but they had seemed busy with their own cases. Besides she was determined to overcome her anxiety by facing it head on and get back to doing the job she loved, unhindered. There was only so long she could go around assuming there was a threat around every dark corner. At some point she had to trust in her abilities as a cop and overcome the fear. It wasn't easy and she knew she had been permanently changed by what had happened to her, but she preferred to think of it in terms of an evolution, not some kind of a regression. Every day was a tiny step forward, even the ones that didn't feel like it at the time.

"Hello ladies," she greeted the trio she ran into first. Two of them suddenly began looking extremely nervous, glancing around as though seeking an escape route. Olivia guessed she had been sussed immediately. These girls seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to cops. The taller older looking girl was Maya, she remembered. She had gotten quite friendly with her a few months ago when they had been investigating a notorious pimp in the area, who was now awaiting trial for trafficking and drug offences.

"Hey Olivia," the young woman said returning a friendly smile. "She's alright," she said, addressing her peers who still looked nervous.

Olivia glanced at Maya sadly. Her attire gave no doubt as to her profession. Her large DD boobs were barely covered and her PVC skirt was so short, Olivia was certain that should she bend even slightly her underwear would be on view. She knew the girl was barely twenty, yet she already looked at least ten years older than that. Life on the streets was harsh.

"I want to ask you a few questions about a guy we are looking for," she said turning her attention to the case at hand.

"That creep who beat up Sherrie?" one of the other girls asked quickly. Olivia turned to face her full on, not recognizing her, but immediately conscious of the fact that she looked barely fourteen. She longed to question her, but now wasn't the time. It was important she gained these girls' trust if she was to help get a dangerous man off the streets.

"Yeah," she replied. "Have you seen him? Can you give me a description?"

"No I haven't, but I think Anna has."

"Anna?"

"She's over there."

Olivia looked to where she was pointing down the street and saw a couple of dark haired girls chatting to a man who had just pulled up in a grey sedan.

"Thanks. I'll just go and have a chat with Anna. I'll be back to talk to you girls again later. Stay safe, okay?!"

"Thanks," they chorused.

Predictably the sedan sped off the second she approached. Ignoring her instincts to want to apprehend and drag the creep down to the station, she instead stepped closer to the girls, asking which one was Anna.

"I'm An.." one of them admitted shyly, but she was immediately cut off by the sound of screeching breaks, followed by a loud skidding noise. Olivia spun around just in time to see a white van mount the sidewalk across the street, crashing straight into a girl who had been standing there, knocking her to the ground. The two girls gasped as the van skidded, coming to a stop against the wall, steam immediately beginning to rise from the smashed bonnet.

Reacting instantly, Olivia reached for her radio and called it in, requesting a bus as she rushed across the road to see what she could do to help.

As she approached and was able to see the dark skinned girl more closely, she could see she was bleeding quite heavily from her head. She knelt down beside her, unhooked her scarf from around her neck, folded it quickly and then pressed it down hard against the young girl's scalp to stem the bleeding. It was obvious she was also working the streets going by her attire and the fact that this was hooker's central.

"Hi, I'm Olivia. I'm a police officer. You're going to be okay," she told her.

She seemed confused and began to try and get to her feet, but Olivia laid a hand gently on her shoulder and told her to remain where she was until the ambulance arrived. There was no telling what other injuries she might have sustained and the importance of not moving road traffic victims was something that even the greenest of rookies had drilled into them. Her thoughts went to the driver of the van and she glanced towards it, just in time to see a young white male clambering down.

"Hey you!" she called out. "Are you injured? An ambulance is on its way."

"Nah, I'm fine," he drawled. She looked at him sharply. His speech seemed slurred and his eyes unfocused.

"You need to be checked out anyway," she insisted, trying to bury her rising anger. DUIs were all too common and it seemed it was always an innocent bystander who suffered the consequences. "Don't even think about running. I'm a cop."

"What's your name?" she asked the girl, turning her attention back to the victim as soon as she satisfied herself that the van driver was going to stay put.

"Eunice," she replied. "Eunice Ngouabi."

"Where are you from Eunice?" she asked, immediately suspecting that this girl might have been brought in illegally given her young age and her thick accent which Olivia could only place as likely being from somewhere in Africa.

"The Congo," she replied nervously. Olivia nodded. She had met plenty of young women from that part of the world and sadly many of them a terrifying and tragic tale to tell. She wondered what hell this girl had been through only to be brought here and forced into this life of prostitution.

"I'm going to help you Eunice," she said and she determined she would do everything in her power to make sure that involved more than just patching up the wounds from the accident.

"I don't feel good," the girl said. Olivia looked at her in alarm as she realised the girl was shivering. In fact come to think of it she did seem warm, feverish in fact. Her limited medical training told her that blood loss could lead to shock, but this seemed to be something else.

It was with relief that she greeted the ambulance crew who had finally turned up.

"This is Eunice. She was knocked down by that white van. She says she doesn't feel well."

"She's burning up! She must be sick," the lead EMT stated.

"How long have you been feeling unwell Eunice?" the second guy asked.

"Since yesterday," the girl replied miserably.

"OK, well we're going to get you to the hospital."

"Thank you."

"You riding along?"

Olivia nodded, reaching for her phone to ring Fin and let him know. He and Amanda were on the way to the scene, so she knew he would be able to drive her car back for her.

A couple of hours later

"Miss Benson, we need you to come this way."

"Why?" she asked, staring in alarm at the masked and gowned doctor, following him as he led her away from the main waiting room and down the corridor.

"It's about the patient you brought in Eunice Ngouabi. We believe she has contracted some kind of respiratory virus. Her symptoms are severe, so we have isolated her."

"Right," Olivia said calmly. She had been through her fair share of flus, coughs and colds before, so wasn't overly worried.

"Initially we suspected flu, but over the last twenty minutes the patient has begun to break out in a very distinctive rash. Until we can confirm what this is we need to take every precaution. People are jittery after recent global outbreaks."

"You think it could be something like SARS?" Olivia said incredulously.

"No we don't believe it's a coronovirus."

"Then what do you suspect, doctor?"

"I really can't say for sure until the tests confirm it. If it is what we fear, then we will have a serious international incident on our hands. We have already notified the CDC and officials are on their way. Due to the nature of our suspicions, we cannot take any chances. You, the ambulance crew, the staff who first attended the patient, anyone who has been in contact with her, you all need to be quarantined, effective immediately. We will be closing the ER until it can be thoroughly disinfected and redirecting all new patients to alternative hospitals. I'm taking you to our high security isolation wing. Since you attended to the patient and administered first aid, we believe you are at a significantly higher risk of infection and I have been instructed to quarantine you until the CDC officials get here and can assess the situation."

"Come on doctor, if you are quarantining me, then surely I have a right to know what for exactly?" She was still finding it difficult to really grasp the extent of what the man was telling her.

"You don't understand. If this gets out… there will be panic, pandemonium even."

Olivia stared at the doctor, her stomach in knots. Whatever it was, this was obviously way more significant than anything she had imagined.

"Please doctor, tell me," she begged.

"In here," he instructed her, directing her into the room but not following her inside. Remove your clothes please and place them in the plastic bag provided." He indicated towards the gown that had been placed on the bed.

"Seriously?" she asked, staring around the sterile room in dismay. This couldn't be happening.

"Everything, including your underwear…" the doctor instructed her.

"May I at least have some privacy to get changed?" she demanded.

"I'm sorry. Legally I need to visually confirm that every item of your clothing has been removed. I'm sorry. I could ask a female member of staff to attend if you prefer."

Anxiously she nodded, watching him as he reached for his bleeper.

"How long will I have to stay here?" she asked meekly. This was unbelievable. Surely it couldn't be anything that bad? What were they looking at? Flashes of scenes from an old movie she had once seen came into her head and she tried to recall the specific name of the infectious disease that had featured in that. She remembered seeing the blood trickling from the patient's mouths. She could feel her throat constricting as she imagined a fate as terrifying as that for herself, the mere thought dizzying.

"We're not sure yet. Once the blood test results come back, we will know more."

"How is Eunice doing then?" Maybe a different tack would reveal something useful?

"She is extremely ill. We've determined she was only brought into the country less than a week ago. It seems more than likely she contracted this virus back in her home country. The CDC is going to have their work cut out for them locating all those who have been placed at risk."

"Please doctor. Tell me what it is you suspect. I need to know. I can handle it. I'm a police officer." She knew it was a long-shot, but it might help convince this guy to fill her in.

He regarded her soberly for a moment and then with a reluctant sigh he spoke.

"If this gets out, they will have my head, but I'm actually one of those who believe that people have a right to know what they are potentially facing. I'm afraid, Miss Benson, given the distinctive nature of the rash; it seems almost inevitable that the results will confirm our suspicions."

"Which is?" she asked, frustration causing her tone to come out sharper than she had intended.

"Smallpox."

Gasping, Olivia sank heavily onto the bed. They had all been warned of the terrorism potential with this virus. Vaccinations had long been discontinued in the USA after the disease had been confirmed eradicated worldwide. Its return had always seemed more like something that would appear in a sci-fi movie rather than anything they would ever likely come into contact with in real life.

"My God!" she breathed in disbelief.

"I think you understand the seriousness of the situation," the doctor said gravely.

Her face pale, Olivia nodded. She felt nauseous, sick to the stomach. The implication was that somebody had somehow deliberately infected people with the disease and if Eunice had brought it into the USA, there was no telling where else it might have spread. Worst-case scenario they could be looking at a potential world pandemic. It was too horrifying to even contemplate.


	2. Chapter 2

2

By the time she had changed into her hospital gown and answered the multitude of questions that always seemed to be a compulsory part of stepping foot inside any hospital, it was almost one in the morning. She knew she was exhausted but sleep was the furthest thing from her mind as she sat on the bed, trying to get her head round the events of the last few hours. She leaped to her feet in relief when she saw the familiar shape of her Captain through the glass as he stepped into the little room cushioning hers from the outside world, along with a nurse, whom she assumed had been assigned as some kind of guard. It seemed she would have to forget about any concept of privacy in here, she thought glumly.

"Hey," Cragen said softly, coming up close to the glass. The nurse stood back watching them awkwardly, trying to pretend he couldn't hear every single word that passed between them.

"They let you in?" she said stepping forward, staring numbly at the older man. She had never been so glad to see someone she knew in her life. The loneliness of being locked in the bleak hospital room even for just a couple of hours was stifling.

"I'm so sorry, Liv," he said sadly. "What can the chances be of something like this? I just can't believe it."

"Have you been looking into Eunice Ngouabi's background? Have you found any of the people she's been in contact with?" she asked, eager to focus on something constructive. She assumed the team had been working on the case. Locating those who had been exposed would be a top priority.

"The only positive thing we have managed to glean from Eunice's peers is that none of them have ever seen her before. This was apparently her first night on the streets and she hadn't yet had any customers. Apparently the usual set-up is to have a couple of the pimps break the new girls in over a period of up to a week before sending them out to 'earn their keep', as they put it." It seems likely Eunice hasn't been in contact with anyone other than these two men.

Olivia sighed heavily. It was an all too familiar story. Young girls put their trust in men and women who promised them a better life abroad, completely unaware they would end up trapped in a living nightmare. The fact that perhaps only the two pimps had been exposed was of some comfort however. They would have to track down and pull them in to be quarantined too and hopefully they would be cooperative when it came to revealing her route into the country. There was still the issue of where she had contracted the disease in the first place. Whether that was in the USA or back in the Congo, the worldwide ramifications would be serious.

"Have you spoken to Brian?" he asked her.

"He's working," she said, shaking her head simultaneously. "I tried calling but he must be busy. I'm sure he'll call back when he can."

"Do you want me to get in touch with the IAB directly? I'm sure they won't mind given the circumstances."

"No, it's fine, Captain. Besides, it's the early hours of the morning. I'll talk to him tomorrow."

"Are you sure? This is a lot to take in."

"Honestly, I'm fine. I've been through worse."

He regarded her sadly, instantly reminded of the horrifying four day ordeal she had suffered only a few months ago. He desperately hoped that being effectively locked up now wasn't in any way aggravating the anguish she was already struggling to overcome.

"I can stay for a while," he offered gently.

"No Captain. It's late. We should both try and get some sleep."

"If you're sure…"

She nodded fervently.

"I'll pop by tomorrow."

"Thanks Captain."

She could swear he looked like he was about to say something else, but then he must have thought better of it for he simply waved a reluctant goodbye and left.

Alone once again, she returned to the bed, sinking down heavily onto the firm mattress, her elbows on her knees, her chin resting in her hands. How exactly she was supposed to sleep, she wasn't entirely certain, but in any case she decided she may as well lie down on the bed. Her mind continued to race, her eventual sleep fitful. As light seeped into the room, she gave up on any more rest and got to her feet, moving over to the sink to splash water on her face and smooth out her hair, before returning to sit on the bed. She already recognised the true reality of her new situation; the mind-numbing boredom.

The morning passed slowly. There was a steady stream of visitors, including various members of hospital staff and her Captain, but still it dragged by. There was a TV but she found daytime talk shows exceedingly tedious and she paced impatiently around the small room as she heard how Mandy had cheated on Barry with two men and how they had all come in for a DNA test to work out who the Father of her four month old baby was. She rolled her eyes at the compulsory yelling, swearing and idle threats that seemed a prerequisite behavioural trait for anyone appearing on such a show and barely flinched when to everyone's 'surprise' it turned out that in fact none of them had fathered the hapless child and that a mystery fourth man was in fact responsible. She sometimes wondered at the future of the human race when faced with stories such as these. She was not sorry to finally see the irate woman stomp off the stage after the host had told her in no uncertain terms exactly what he thought of her behaviour.

They brought her another meal, once again reminding her how to safely dispose of the plastic cutlery and plates afterwards. Everything she used had to be bagged and either destroyed, or if not, at least sent off to be thoroughly sterilized. She wondered if it wasn't a little excessive. Assuming she had been infected, surely her body wouldn't have had enough time yet to reproduce enough of the pathogen to pose a threat to anyone else yet? Even with the thick wall of glass separating them from her, they looked nervous to be coming anywhere near and really she couldn't blame them, given what they were facing.

She knew her room was completely sealed, with a separate air supply. In fact she was aware the isolation unit had been a fairly recent addition to the hospital and she couldn't help but wonder if she were perhaps even the first occupant to be holed up in here. She knew that the majority of high-risk patients tended to be transferred to the city's specialist infectious diseases hospital, but the CDC had instructed staff not to take the risk of moving her, such was the concern of contamination. Her food tray had been slipped into a kind of an airlock which was controlled only on the outside. Staff had been instructed not to enter her room unless absolutely necessary and only then with the highest precautions, in other words disposable gowns, masks and gloves. Since she was perfectly fit and healthy, she hadn't needed any assistance, so it hadn't been an issue so far.

She had attempted to call Brian again earlier, but it had gone to his answer machine after a couple of rings and he hadn't yet got back in touch. She hadn't left a message. What should she say? That she was locked up in the hospital for goodness knows how long, feared to have contracted a disease the world had thought had long disappeared? She was at a loss for words to explain it. It seemed to her it was the kind of thing much better explained in person.

She understood he was busy with work, but she couldn't help but resent the fact that he hadn't managed to find five minutes to call her back. She was going out of her mind. No one was telling her anything. She longed to know if the CDC officials had arrived yet, if they had confirmed it was actually smallpox, how many others had been quarantined and how long exactly the incubation period was. She wondered how Eunice was doing. Her sketchy knowledge of the disease told her that a significant proportion of patients had died from it in the past, but that a far greater proportion recovered with no major complications. She supposed that the advances in modern medicine would likely mean the survival rate would be even higher nowadays. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as she had feared?

She turned towards the TV when she heard the distinctive sound of the start of the local news program. She sank down onto the bed as the newscaster quickly ran through the headlines, surprised when she realized that the CDC being called in to investigate a mystery respiratory illness was number two on the agenda. Without a doubt it would have been number one had the media any inkling it was actually smallpox, she thought wryly. They didn't say much, but the fact it had already made the news made her uneasy. She could only imagine the public's panic when the truth actually got out.

Just as the program was finishing, her doctor made another appearance with another man in tow.

"Hello Olivia, how are you doing?" he asked.

"Not too bad I suppose," she answered wearily. "I'm bored out of my mind, to be honest."

"This is Norris Richardson," he said nodding towards his companion. "He's with the CDC. He'd like to speak with you."

"Have you found out what we're looking at?" she asked, sitting up straight, immediately reinvigorated now that finally someone had come to hopefully explain the situation in more detail. She couldn't help but think the guy looked like your stereotypical scientist, with his thick-rimmed glasses, balding head and awkward demeanor that told her he would probably be much more at home in a laboratory than out talking to real people. Someone had to face the public though. She supposed he must have drawn the short straw.

"Initial tests have confirmed that we are looking at a strain of smallpox," the man answered carefully.

"Right," she said slowly. She had been expecting that, but it was still terrifying to actually hear the confirmation.

"We have been talking with the patient zero," he continued. "It's going to take a while to fully evaluate the situation."

"I understand," she repeated calmly, wishing that her stomach were quite so steady. The apprehension had truly set in. She had so many questions, yet wasn't entirely certain she wanted to know the answers.

"What are the chances I have contracted smallpox?" she asked, taking the plunge, looking the official square in the face as she spoke.

"There's a significant risk," he replied, his expression neutral, his eyes refusing to make contact with hers.

"Is there anything you can do?"

"We can offer you a vaccine, but unfortunately this strain is a particularly unpleasant one. Past studies question its effectiveness in fact."

"So basically I have to just wait and see if I fall sick or not."

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Well for how long?"

"The incubation period is from seven to seventeen days. However the average is twelve to fourteen days until the first symptoms appear."

"You mean I've got to be in here for two weeks?" she asked heavily.

"Yes. In fact patients aren't usually contagious until they start showing symptoms, but given the seriousness of this disease, we are under orders from the government to quarantine you for the duration of the incubation period."

"What are the initial symptoms?" she asked.

"Flu-like symptoms: that's to say, a high fever, general malaise, head and body aches, sometimes vomiting. After about two to four days, the rash appears.

"OK," she said slowly. That didn't sound too bad, but the look on this guy's face troubled her. She was certain there was more, something he wasn't telling her.

"What is it?" she asked, detecting the brief but knowing glance between the two men easily.

"As I said before, this strain is particularly virulent. In fact it is the most severe form of the disease."

"How bad is that?" she asked feeling her nails digging into her palms as she waited for the answer.

"Hemorrhagic smallpox is characterized by extensive bleeding into the skin, mucous membranes and gastrointestinal tract," the CDC official quoted flatly. "Death occurs in almost one hundred percent of patients, often by around the sixth day after symptoms first begin to appear, but sometimes a little later."


	3. Chapter 3

3

She quickly tapped out the message. She still hadn't heard from Brian and had decided she had no choice but to let him know via a text that she had been quarantined, as her phone battery was about to die.. She had a list of things she wanted him to bring her, but she decided to wait for him to contact her before letting him know exactly what she needed. Hopefully he would at least bring a phone charger, she thought. With the message safely sent, she turned her attention back to the book one of the nurses had brought her, insisting it was an old copy she didn't need anymore, so not to worry about the fact it would probably need to be incinerated afterwards.

It wouldn't have been her first choice: a trashy love story about a couple whose union seemed cosmically predetermined to succeed in spite of the myriad of obstacles the author had lain in their way. She was too skeptical to really get sucked in by such notions of romance. The way she saw it, falling in love was simply down to timing and personal readiness. She didn't believe that there was only one ideal person out there for everyone and that you just had to sit patiently and wait for them to turn up. She believed that falling in love was more proactive: that you meet someone you like and are physically attracted to, who wants similar things in life and then you both make the decision together to make a go of things. She had been in love before, it had ended and life had gone on. It always did.

She skimmed over certain passages as she read. The writer wasn't actually too bad, but the story just didn't fully hold her attention. It was hard to concentrate anyway when her mind kept wandering back to whether or not the virus had entered her body and was now multiplying, invading her little by little. It was terrifying to think that she could have as little as three weeks left on earth. What had she accomplished with her life exactly? I mean sure, she had helped countless victims, done her part to make the streets a little safer by locking up some of the less desirable elements in the state of New York, but aside from that, what legacy would she be leaving?

The fact that she had no children was her biggest heartache. Even as a little girl she had always believed that one day she would have two girls. She had even picked out names. It made her chuckle now to imagine her children answering to "Josephine" and "Bernhilda" but she had been an ardent Chalet School fan throughout most of her teen years – one of the more benevolent influences her mother had bestowed on her. For a while such names had captivated her.

It saddened her that she would never know what it was like to be a mother. She couldn't help but speculate what her life could have been like if she had given Brian a chance the first time she had been drawn towards him. For all she knew they could have been married with any number of children by now. The timing had been wrong though. She had been resolutely focused on her job, determined not to let the fact that she was relatively young, female and a newcomer to the department affect how the others saw her professionally. She coveted their respect and fraternizing with a colleague would have put everything she had worked for at risk. Back then Cassidy had been the brunt of Munch's teasing and jokes and with everyone's attention on him she had managed to slip into the department, finding her place relatively smoothly. She was fully aware that her then still new partner had been less than enamored by his younger male colleague, for privately he had had made his feelings towards him clear. His opinion had been important to her and she hadn't wanted to give him any reason to question his trust in her. Besides, she had to admit that Brian was a bit like a Stilton: he had definitely improved with age.

She was startled by a low knock. Hopeful that finally Brian had arrived she stared across the room towards the door. It occurred to her even before she caught sight of her visitor that she had literally just sent the message and that, unless Brian had happened to be miraculously standing right outside the hospital, it was very unlikely to be him. Even so she couldn't help but anticipate his arrival. She knew it probably wasn't a member of the hospital staff for they tended to be much less cautious about entering. A knock in their case wasn't so much a request for permission, as it was more like a statement of their immediate intention to enter. She had gotten used to the different style of knocking in those who regularly attended her already. She knew without a doubt that this was someone new, who hadn't been here yet and who was probably feeling a little intimidated. She could hardly blame them.

She hadn't been expecting to see who did step through the door though. Initially gasping in absolute disbelief, she quickly composed herself as she struggled to calm the confusing rush of emotions that had suddenly hit her. Her heart had almost skipped a beat when she had first caught sight of the familiar figure of her ex-partner, but at the same time, deep inside she could feel the anger simmering. What the hell was he doing here? Didn't she have enough on her plate, without him choosing _this_ moment to turn up? _Three years._ It resonated in her head relentlessly.

"Hey," he said sheepishly and it immediately caused her anger to further surge. Did he really think he could just waltz in here as though nothing had happened?

"What are you doing here?" she asked coldly. Despite her growing discomfort, she couldn't keep her eyes off his face. He hadn't changed. If anything he looked more relaxed, much less wound up. He was wearing a regular shirt and jeans and she had to admit he looked good. She tried to ignore the nervous sensations stirring in her stomach and instead focus on the anger. There was no way she was letting him off easy. She was genuinely confused as to why he had come here though, especially when her boyfriend had seemingly not even yet heard of her plight.

"I heard what happened. I had to come," he said simply. Outwardly he appeared stoic, but she had known him long enough not to miss the glimmer of uncertainty that flashed in his eyes as he spoke. She almost softened on seeing it, but then she remembered that feeling when Cragen had pulled her into his office to tell her he wouldn't be coming back. All those years as partners and he had been unable to even face telling her himself: That had hurt more than anything.

"How?" she asked puzzled. She had seen the news reports on her case and they had been extremely vague, no names mentioned and certainly no mention of the disease they were facing. She knew that once they got hold of the fact that it was smallpox they were dealing with, there would be widespread panic and the general official opinion was that in cases such as these, secrecy definitely served the greater good. She imagined all members of hospital staff who had come anywhere near the isolation unit had been briefed and heavily threatened about disclosing information. When words such as biological attack and terrorism were thrown around, people were generally wary and with good reason. Nine-eleven had opened the door to a dangerous worldwide trend towards implementing new laws that favored security. Civil liberties had never been so ambiguous.

"Does it matter?" he asked, his gaze dropping, immediately deepening her resolve to find out exactly how he had heard she was here.

"Yes," she said firmly.

Raising his head he looked straight at her and for a second the raw emotion in his expression startled her. There was a vulnerability there that she recognized immediately. She was instantly reminded of the implicit trust she had felt for him while they had been partners. It was difficult to put into words. With him she had felt free to be herself, to not need to hide anything for she had known he had really _seen_ her. He knew everything about her. During the long hours they had spent on stake-outs or driving around the city they had talked, over time holding nothing back. They knew each other inside out. It was amazing how that closeness still remained foremost in her mind and in the way she now found herself returning his gaze, knowing that he was reading her, recognizing that her resolve was faltering and feeling her need to understand why he had walked away and why he had come here now.

"I never stopped caring about you, you know," he said sadly and she felt her stomach muscles clench as she heard the words she had longed to be true but that she now struggled to believe given everything that had happened. _Three years._ It continued to resound in her head. She couldn't do this. She couldn't let him just walk back in to her life like this. She could feel the tears welling and furiously she blinked them away, turning around so that her back was to the glass window separating them.

"How can you say that?" she muttered finally, hating the sound of the tremble in her voice. She could feel his eyes on her even though she couldn't see him. She knew that if he looked into her eyes he would be able to see just how much the hurt still permeated her being almost as acutely as it did that day she had walked into her Captain's office and heard the overwhelming news.

"Don't ever think I walked away because I didn't care," he said resolutely. Baffled she shook her head.

"Liv, please look at me."

"What makes you think you can just walk in here after three years?" she asked angrily, raising her head and turning round as she spoke. She hadn't meant to, but she desperately wanted him to understand just how much he had hurt her.

He stepped closer to the window.

"Liv, please, I know I need to explain everything."

"No, Elliot. You don't need to explain a thing. In fact that's not true: the only thing I want to know is how you heard I was in here?"

"Over the scanner."

"What?"

"Like I said, I never stopped caring."

"You've been keeping tabs on me?" she cried incredulously. She was incensed; even though she had to admit a very small part of her couldn't help but feel intrigued by the idea.

"I needed to know you were safe."

"I don't get you at all Elliot. Why didn't you just call me?"

She found her fists involuntarily clenching as it suddenly occurred to her that if he had been listening to all their radio transmissions then he must know what had happened to her. Had he been secretly listening the whole time as her colleagues struggled to find her during the four-day period she had been held by Lewis? Why hadn't he been in touch after that then? This was all bullshit. _If he had really cared, surely he would have known just how much she had needed him after that. _

"I'm sorry."

She stared at him bewildered. What was he apologizing for exactly? She had longed to hear those words, but now she was, she knew it wasn't enough.

"I'm sorry for everything."

"Why?" she asked. Her head was spinning. She could barely focus. Why was he doing this to her? She had believed she had finally come to terms with it and had finally truly moved on. What right did he have to come back and whip the rug out from under her feet like this? She was falling but the ground was nowhere in sight.

"I need you to believe me, Liv. I missed you."

"El, please, stop it," she begged him, once again tears were threatening, but this time she didn't bother to hide them. Let him actually see just how much he had hurt her, she thought. He deserved to know.

"I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have come."

"Maybe you shouldn't have."

As soon as the words left her mouth she recognized they were a lie. She watched him in dismay. This was it. He would take this as an excuse to leave and once again he would walk out of her life, leaving her to pick up the pieces and somehow move on. She could feel the moisture building on her cheeks and she knew he could see it. He looked as close to tears as she had ever seen him himself. This was it. She waited with baited breath, completely expecting him to walk out again, once and for all this time, but he didn't move.

"Liv, I can't leave. I deserve this. You have a right to be angry with me, to push me away, but I can't do it again. I can't walk away again."

"El, please, just leave." Couldn't he see how much this was killing her?

"No, Liv," he said, shaking his head fervently. "I don't expect you to forgive me so soon, but we need to talk. I need to explain why I did what I did."

"Why now? Because I'm dying? Because you want some kind of closure to assuage your guilt?"

"What?" he muttered, the blood leaving his face as he took in what she was saying.

"Didn't you know?" she said sarcastically. "I'm not exactly here on vacation."

"I only heard you were brought to the hospital. They didn't mention anything more over the radio, but when I didn't hear you or any mention of you I started to worry about the sudden radio silence and I came here to find out for myself. They didn't tell me anything, just directed me straight up here."

"So you don't know anything?" she asked, her tone quieter, more gentle.

"I know you were exposed to something and that you have been quarantined as a precaution. I gathered that much, plus I saw the news."

"I see."

"What is it? Please tell me you were joking about dying?"

"Why would I joke about something like that?"

"Liv, please."

"I've been exposed to a dangerous strain of smallpox," she said carefully. She hated the fact that a very small part of her enjoyed telling him that and watching the shock cloud his features. But when she saw just how affected he was by her revelation, she immediately began to feel guilty. The man looked devastated.

"Shit, Liv," he muttered. She stared in amazement, seeing the moisture pooling in his eyes. He was crying? For her?

"I may not have it," she said quickly.

"How long until…?"

"Two weeks."

"Two weeks," he repeated slowly.

She nodded.

"Can I visit you?"

She wanted to tell him no, that he should walk away and for good this time, that she was happy now. She had a boyfriend. She had been promoted. Her life was just fine without him. However she was unable to peel her eyes away from the tear now slowly tracing a path down his cheek and she found herself nodding in spite of herself.

"Thank you," he whispered. "I know we have so much more to talk about."

She nodded again, hating that she had given in so easily, but unable to resist the pull that she recognized he had always had over her. She realized it had been inevitable the second he had stepped through that door.

"I promised Kathy I'd pick Eli up from soccer practice, but I'll come back later today, okay?"

"Sure," she said, feeling fresh tears well in her eyes. He had a wife, a family. What was he doing here? What was she doing? This was only ever going to end one way. It was as though she were walking towards a cliff, fully aware what lay below, yet powerless to stop herself. She always had been when it came to him.

"Bye Liv," he said softly.

"Bye," she echoed, her voice almost inaudible as she watched him cross to the door, giving her a slight wave before he slipped back out.

Sinking he head into her hands, she allowed herself to give in. The tears quickly soaked her fingers, seeping through and landing onto her lap as she cried for herself, for the past and for a future that had been shattered, for even if she got through this quarantine, she knew that things would never be the same again. Her head ached as an absolute sense of loneliness descended over her. The worst thing about it was that she knew in her heart that it wasn't Brian that she longed for to alleviate it. Despite everything it was him. _It always had been. _


	4. Chapter 4

4

"Liv, my God! What's going on?" he asked, pressing himself up against the window and peering in at her, his shock plastered over his face as he took in the cold clinical-looking room and its spartan contents.

"You finally got my message then," she said languidly. It was hard to muster up much enthusiasm when she was struggling to comprehend why it had taken him quite this long to come.

"I'm so sorry, Liv. I got completely caught up in a case."

"I figured."

"Honey, you know what it's like… I came the second I heard."

"Honey?" she challenged him. He hadn't used that particular term with her before and for some reason it irritated her intensely that he would suddenly start now. Did seeing her like this in hospital turn her into some kind of pity case or something?

"Liv," he corrected himself speedily.

She glared at the floor. She knew her current mood was for the greater part nothing to do with Brian and she hated the real reason behind it.

"So tell me what's going on," he asked.

"I was exposed to something while helping a vic and they've quarantined me," she explained keeping it simple and to the point.

"What exactly? How long for?"

"Smallpox," she replied pronouncing the word slowly and deliberately. It still felt strange coming out of her own mouth. "And two weeks."

"Smallpox?" he muttered confused. "I feel like I've heard of that."

"You have. It's a virus, with a nasty distinctive rash. They eradicated it through a successful vaccination program back in the seventies." Seeing the continued blank look on his face she continued. "You know, it's the one they are now saying could be a dangerous biological weapon if it were to get in the hands of terrorists."

"Oh right that one." She thought he still looked a little unsure.

She paused for a second as she waited for him to connect the dots, but she realized she would have to further help him out.

"…which means," she added. "It looks like a deliberate biological attack."

"Geez," he said, his face clouding as he finally understood the true gravity of the situation.

"The original patient is here being treated for the full blown disease," she continued.

"What happened exactly? How did _you_ get caught up in all of this?"

"A girl was knocked down by a car. I was in the area talking to some of the girls on the street and saw the accident and went over to help. They think I could have been infected then."

"So you're stuck in here for two weeks while you wait and see?"

"That's the gist of it," she said flatly. She was waiting for him to say something more, ask specifics about the disease and what it would mean if she had caught it, but he didn't and something held her back from volunteering the information. She hated to be the one to lay that terrifying burden of worry on him.

"I don't think I can get much time off work," he said, a slightly pained expression on his face.

"It's fine," she replied quickly.

"I mean, I just got reinstated and all."

"It's fine, honestly. I understand."

"Do you want me to bring you some things?"

"Well yes, I do actually."

"Hang on, I'll get a pen," he said, reaching into his pocket.

* * *

He hadn't been able to stay all that long. He had explained he needed to head home for some sleep as he was exhausted and would be working that night again. He had written down all the items she had requested and promised he would bring them to her as soon as he could, asking if the next day would be fine as the hospital was in the opposite direction to 1PP and it would save time before his shift. She nodded. It wasn't his fault he was busy and she understood he was reluctant to do anything to jeopardize his newly reinstated position as a detective again. She wished he could sympathize with her situation a little better though. For him waiting until the following morning perhaps seemed like no time at all, but stuck in here, to her it felt like a lifetime.

She spent the rest of the afternoon flipping between TV channels and the book she was steadily plowing through. It was hard to concentrate for any length of time though. As the afternoon wore on she found the boredom and loneliness increasing as she imagined what it would be like to be told she had caught this illness. Brian probably thought it was the equivalent to a bout of flu. Little did he know! She knew she would have to tell him the true extent, but at least he would sleep easy today.

* * *

"Hey, how are you doing?"

She looked up as Elliot entered the room. She had known it was him thanks to his distinctive knock. Part of her had believed he wouldn't keep his promise about returning, part of her had even hoped he wouldn't. She had to admit that when he did step inside the room, she was glad to see him. In fact she would have been glad to see anyone at this point.

"Hey," she said despondently.

He came up close to the window and looked at her sharply.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Why so discouraged?" he asked. "This isn't like you to give up."

"I haven't," she said crossly.

"Hey, it's OK. I get it… I also know how much you hate these places."

She returned his gaze, seeing the genuine sympathy in his eyes and she forced a weak smile.

"I brought you some things."

"You did?" she said surprised. She averted her gaze to the brown paper bag he was holding. He raised it so she could see it better.

"I can't have you withering away in here, dying from boredom now."

"That's really nice of you." Her curiosity was peaked. "What did you bring?"

"How can I give this to you?

"A nurse will take care of that later. Show me now though."

"OK," he smiled. "Right, well first, something practical," he sunk his hand into the bag and withdrew some soap shaped as a pink flower.

"They do have soap here, you know," she said with a chuckle.

"Yes, but this is scented. I know how much you like this sort of stuff."

"What else did you bring?" she asked eagerly.

"Don't be so impatient!" he mock scolded her. "Perhaps I'll take me and my bag and just leave." He pretended to close the bag as though he were about to follow through on his threat.

"Elliot, come on. Stop teasing. Show me what else you brought me."

"OK, OK," he said with a grin. "Since the soap didn't impress you. How about this?"

She watched as he withdrew a magazine.

"OK. That's better," she said. "I've been dying for something more interesting to read than this sappy novel." She indicated towards the book which she had lain on the bedside cabinet, face down.

"You know you'll ruin the spine doing that," he admonished her.

"It's going to be incinerated anyway," she retorted quickly.

The stark reminder of her situation was sobering. She watched the emotion briefly flicker on his face. It was hard to correlate his current concern for her with the way he had left and his subsequent three year absence. She watched him curiously as he silently slipped his hand back into the bag. The fact that he was here and had spent time to choose and bring her these things touched her greatly, but she couldn't shake off the residual anger, however much she tried to ignore it.

"Next, is this," he said, holding up a crossword puzzle book.

"Thanks," she said glumly. It wasn't that she disliked puzzles particularly: it was just that usually she would never have the time for such things.

"Hey, do you want me to stop? You can look at this stuff later, when I'm gone, if you like?"

"No. I'm sorry, I'm grateful. It's just I'm not used to having so much free time on my hands..."

She was suddenly hit by haphazard memories of her time held captive by William Lewis. For most of the four days she had been fed alcohol and drugs and some of it had been a blur, but there had been a large part of it where she had struggled with the boredom. She had been trussed up like an animal, with absolute nothing to while away the long hours. He hadn't given her anything in the way of entertainment throughout the whole four days, unless varying forms of torture counted. He had either been tormenting her or she had been left completely alone. Some of the worst hours had been those she had spent in the trunk of his car, while he had spent the day with his lawyer. The way her stomach growled from a hunger more intense than anything she had ever known, made closing her eyes and imagining herself far away next to impossible.

Unable to see anything much, her other senses had seemed heightened. She could hear muffled sounds outside the vehicle and the sound of music playing constantly. She had tried calling out, but the tape over her mouth had prevented from making enough noise to have any realistic hope of attracting attention, so she had long given up. She had been bound so tightly she could barely move. Then at some point they must have bought a pizza and eaten it in the car, for the aroma wafted through, bringing tears to her eyes as she desperately longed for even one bite, truly unsure for a moment of exactly how far she would actually have been capable of going just to get a taste. As much as the thought of his hands on her turned her stomach, she found herself questioning whether being raped might not be preferable to the constant hunger that gnawed at her insides.

They had driven for a while after that and then they had left. There was only silence outside, but the smell of pizza had remained, causing her to suppose he must have deliberately left the empty box in the car. She knew it was no accident. He was meticulous. Everything he did had a purpose behind it. She had laid there, her arms and legs now aching from the uncomfortable position, her stomach growling, her head hurting from the beatings and the alcohol, but worse, she had felt like she was beginning to lose her mind. As much as she wanted him as far away from her as humanly possible, as the minutes turned into hours, she began to long for his return, anything to end the boredom and the loneliness and the not knowing if he would ever come back. Her own imagination was now her own worst enemy.

"Liv, are you OK?" Elliot asked worriedly.

His voice penetrated and brought her back to her present and as she began to focus on him once again, she allowed her gaze to fall to her hands, realizing she was shaking.

"I…"

"You were gone there for a second," he said, his voice thick with concern. Tears welled in her eyes. How could he stand there pretending he gave a shit? Where had he been? Why hadn't he got in contact with her after it had happened?

"I'm fine," she said slowly, clenching her teeth in her effort not to permit the tears to fall.

He looked at her and she knew he hadn't been fooled. He must know though? How could he not if he had been keeping tabs on her all this time? She had to find out.

"Were you listening?" she asked, meeting him straight in the eye.

"What?"

"Back in May, the radio... Were you listening in?"

"May?" he inquired and as she saw the confusion on his face, she began to first suspect that he really didn't have a clue what she was talking about.

"I can't remember anything specific," he said. "I took Eli and Dickie camping up north around then actually. I wasn't listening out all the time you know. Just on occasion."

"I see," she said slowly. _He didn't know. _Didn't the man read the papers?

"What happened in May?"

"Nothing."

"It's obviously not _nothing_," he pressed her.

"It doesn't matter," she said once again dropping her gaze.

"Of course it does," he replied firmly.

"Why don't you show me what else you brought?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Don't change the subject, Olivia."

"Honestly, it's nothing."

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" she asked looking up again to see that this time it was he who couldn't meet her eyes.

"Something obviously happened to you and you feel you can't tell me and I get that. I walked away for three years. I've lost your trust. I shouldn't expect anything less."

"Elliot. Please, drop it. I can't do this right now."

"OK," he agreed nodding sadly. "…for now anyway," he added.

"You don't give up do you," she said, a tiny smile escaping her lips.

"Nope," he grinned back.

She took a deep breath.

"I need time to get my head around all this. You turning up here was the last thing I expected."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Will you stop apologizing?"

"No, I won't. We need to talk about this."

"Not today."

"Why not?"

"Please…"

She watched him, a twinge of guilt stirring in her stomach. She had never seen him looking so uncertain.

"What else did you bring?" she asked, hoping that returning his attention to the paper bag and its contents might lighten the mood a little.

"This," he said, reaching in and withdrawing a small packet."

"What is it?" she asked curiously.

"It's something I wanted to give you a long time ago, but just never did."

"Really? Why not."

"I thought you might not think it appropriate. I don't know. I mean, there was no reason to give you anything, but I got it and then afterwards I just couldn't."

"But you can now?"

"A lot of time has passed. I've changed..." He left his sentence hanging, hoping that somehow she would understand what he was trying to say.

"What is it?"

"Maybe you should look after I've gone."

"If you prefer," she said with a shrug.

"Look Liv, I said this earlier, but I never stopped caring about you. I had to walk away, for me, for my marriage, for my kids, but more importantly, for us."

"For us? How did you leaving do anything for us?" She couldn't help the rising anger in her tone. Did the man have any idea what he was saying?

"Trust me, Liv. I thought it was the right decision. I messed up."

"Then why didn't you contact me earlier, after you had realized that?"

"I thought you would be better off without me."

"How could you think that?"

"I didn't want to hold you back any longer. You deserved better than that."

"You're not making any sense."

"I know. I just… please. Just look at it later. You'll understand."

He placed the bag down on the floor in front of the window.

"Are you leaving already?" she asked disappointed.

"Do you want me to stay?"

She nodded slowly.

"Then I can stay a bit longer," he said with a smile.


	5. Chapter 5

5

There had been an awkward silence, with neither breaking it for a long while, but then at some point they had eased into a light conversation about something or other and gradually the heavy atmosphere had started to lift. She was fully aware that however much resentment and hurt she still felt towards the man, it was infinitely better to be chatting here with him than to be left on her own.

"You should call Alex," she suggested suddenly, remembering their old colleague who had worked for a while in the Congo. "She might be able to help throw some more light on the situation somehow."

"Good idea," Elliot said with a smile. "Have you seen her recently? How is she doing?"

"Not in a few months," Olivia replied wistfully. Facing what she was now, she couldn't help but wish she had made more time for her friends. It wasn't as though she had all that many after all. The nature of her job had prevented that. Most of the people she considered friends were people she had at one point or still did work with.

"She was one of the best," he said. Aware it was more of an awkward attempt to keep the conversation going than anything else, Olivia nodded. She agreed wholeheartedly. Things had been so different back in those days: she, Elliot, Alex, the rest of the team, all idealistically fighting a battle that they had believed at that time they could even win. But as she had gone from year to year, each new case wearing at her a little more, she had become jaded and much less disillusioned that her impact was anything but a small dent on the real extent of the problem. She remembered those early years in the job with fondness. They had all fought like cat and dog on occasion, but it had been down to their thirst and passion towards making a real difference. It had been exciting, invigorating and she had looked forward to every day.

She sneaked a quick glance at his face. There were certain things about him she hadn't been able to forget. That look he would get in his deep blue eyes when he saw an injustice and the determination that set into his expression as he leapt ahead without a thought for the personal consequences. Both of them had been headstrong. They had felt anger, frustration and sorrow over the same cases. They had always helped pick one another up and somehow they had carried on, on the outside so fiercely independent, yet in reality, so intertwined that she had almost fallen apart when he had left. It had been like losing a limb. A loss so profound that it had changed everything and so surreal that sometimes it felt like he was still there.

And now he was.

Her gaze fell to his hands and involuntarily she found herself wondering what it would be like to feel those hands, his arms, wrap around her, his skin against hers in a silent promise that leaving had truly been a mistake and one that he would never make again. As she felt a strange sensation begin to ripple through her stomach, she could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks and she averted her gaze, horrified that she might have given something away, that he would somehow know the direction in which her thoughts had turned. She had allowed her mind to wander too far. She needed to ground herself.

"How's Kathy?" she asked. The name on her lips immediately brought her back to reality. The man was married with five children. Allowing her mind to wander about what might have been, _what might be_, was not an option.

"OK, I guess," he shrugged. She looked at him sharply, immediately aware of the unobvious statement in his tone and his body posture that was warning her to leave the subject well alone. She never had been one for playing it safe though. Her curiosity had been piqued. Something had happened. She was certain of it.

"Is she still working at the hospital?" she continued, deliberately trying to make her voice as light and breezy as possible, as if the mere mention of her name didn't make her want to curl up in a ball and cry at how unfair the world was that it would place a man so tantalizing before her, yet with whom she could never realistically be with in that way.

"As far as I know," he said and she fell silent. What did that mean exactly? It could only mean one thing really, yet still she found herself unwilling to dare believe it. She sighed. They had split before. They were probably just going through another spat.

"We finally split just over a year ago," he said eventually, supplying her with the concrete proof.

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled awkwardly. She was. She knew how much family meant to him. She had watched him suffer the last time they had separated. "Have you tried speaking to her?" She knew it sounded silly almost. Obviously he would have tried that! She admonished herself silently, cringing inside. It was so difficult to know the right thing to say in situations like this.

"It's permanent. We worked everything out amicably. She's since started seeing someone else in fact. I've met him. He's nice - good for her. He's around a lot more than I was anyway."

"You did what you had to," she said quickly. Hearing him blame himself so thoroughly like this broke her heart. She was sure it must have been hard for Kathy given how attached to the job he was, but he had always worked so hard for his family. They had always come first and she had to have known that deep down.

"How about you? Seeing anyone?"

She could tell that despite the casual way he had asked the question, beneath that he seemed nervous about the potential response. It surprised her. She couldn't help the brief rush of irritation at the thought of him disapproving of her having moved on with her life and having met someone. Had she been supposed to sit around and indefinitely wait for him or something?

"I am in fact," she said flatly. It felt good to say the words. She didn't feel like such a pity case being able to say that yes, she was actually 'normal' enough to hold down a long-term relationship.

"Good," he replied.

She looked at him quizzically. Now inexplicably she found herself bothered by the fact the news had barely made him flinch. Wasn't he in the least bit curious?

"You deserve to be happy," he said decisively. She could feel the tears building as she recognized his sincerity and looked away.

"Liv?"

"What?" she whispered, wishing her voice weren't quite so shaky.

"You are happy aren't you?"

Slowly she nodded. It wasn't entirely a lie. Up until he had turned up she had thought she had been.

"For a moment then, you didn't appear so sure," he pressed, as she fiercely blinked the threatening tears away.

"Are you?" she asked, throwing the question back at him, mainly to take the focus away from her own growing discomfort. This conversation was fast turning in a direction that frightened the hell out of her.

"For the most part," he said thoughtfully.

She nodded, not daring to ask any further.

"I have one big regret, though," he continued.

She could feel her muscles tightening in her stomach at his words as she tried to imagine what he could possible mean if he wasn't referring directly to her. The way he was staring though left her in no doubt. She found her fingers pushing the loose strands of her fringe out of her eyes and then following them down to the ends that hung just below her chin, she turned the soft hair around and around, kneading it between her thumb and first two fingers, a habit she had mostly ridded herself off since childhood.

Thankfully a knock forced an end to the conversation.

"Are you expecting anyone?" Elliot enquired. "Is it _him_? Should I go?"

"No? I mean, I don't know," she said. She supposed it was possible, but more likely it was someone from the precinct: maybe her Captain?

"Do you want me to see?"

"Please," she said.

She waited as Elliot stepped over towards the door. His eyes fell on the brown paper bag he had placed on the floor and she remembered what he had said about having brought some kind of gift for her. She wondered again what it could possibly be. Then her attention was shifted to the familiar shape of her current partner, as he stepped inside, his shock visible on his face as he saw her isolation room.

"Hey," he said gently, stepping towards the glass, looking almost nervous to touch it even. "How are you holding up?"

"Not bad," she said lightly with a smile. "Thanks for swinging by."

"No problem," he said, placing his hands in his pockets as he took an obvious sweeping look around the place.

"So who's this?" he asked finally, indicating towards Elliot who had remained silent, watching the intruder with curiosity. He had already ascertained he was a colleague of hers.

"This is Elliot Stabler, my ex-partner," she said, ignoring the look of surprise that instantly settled on her younger partner's face. "El, this is Nick Amaro, my partner."

"Nice to meet you," Elliot said quickly, stepping towards him with an outstretched hand. Amaro seemed to hesitate for a second before meeting it with his own and shaking it firmly.

"I've heard a lot about you," Amaro said, eyeing the taller man curiously. Elliot thought it was clear her partner was uncomfortable about his presence here. He kept glancing over at Olivia, as if checking to make sure she was okay with everything.

"All bad, I expect," Elliot said with a grin, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Well not _all_," Amaro said pointedly. There was a warning in his tone that Elliot understood. It screamed out this man's disapproval about what he had done to Olivia by walking away and that he was determined not to allow her to get hurt again. There was something more though. He had an air about him that seemed to be excessively overprotective. It confused him. Olivia was as tough as nails. He couldn't imagine her putting up with that. Maybe they hadn't been together all that long? Yet, if that were the case, why would the guy be quite so devoted? It didn't make sense.

"How long have you been partners?" Elliot asked.

"About three years," Olivia replied.

Elliot flinched at the number. It was the exact same amount of time that had passed since he had left. This guy had replaced him and judging from the way things looked, he obviously cared a great deal about Olivia and she about him.

"Rollins is here too," Amaro informed them. She just popped to the restroom.

This Rollins must be another 'new' colleague, Elliot decided.

He hung back a little as Amaro asked Olivia the run-of-the-mill questions – how she was coping locked up in the hospital, whether she needed anything, whether she wanted him to do anything at all. Around five minutes later there was another knock, but this time it was a good-looking blond-haired female who stepped inside. The way she immediately gave him the once over, Elliot realised she certainly wasn't shy.

"This is Amanda Rollins," Olivia introduced her colleague.

"Wow," Elliot said, grinning. "If I had known they were bringing in someone like you, I might never have left!"

Amanda grinned amicably enough, but as soon as the words fell off his lips, he regretted them. He glanced towards Olivia but her stony expression left him no clue as to how to comment had gone down. He could kick himself. Why had he said that? _Why was it so easy to flirt with anyone else?"_

Olivia forced herself not to visibly react to his flippant comment. She knew it was just a harmless attempt at humour on his behalf, but it did hurt and not just lightly either. 'Someone like Amanda', in other words someone blond, she thought. She was obviously his type. She, Olivia, hadn't been enough to keep him, yet this person he had just met would have been? Suddenly a wave of tiredness hit and she wished she could be alone. She could hardly be rude to everyone though. So she forced herself to smile at their jokes, nod in agreement at their comments and to answer their questions as briefly as she could. She was aware that she had withdrawn from the conversation and the banter and she knew it hadn't gone unnoticed by Elliot as he continued to throw worried glances in her direction. Stuff him though, she thought, not sure which was more prevalent: the anger or the sadness.

They finally all left when a nurse came along and turfed everyone out, as she needed to take some blood from Olivia to be tested. Once everyone had left the room, the nurse explained she had noticed Olivia was looking a little tired, overwhelmed even and had told them all to go out to give her a five minute break, for really there was no reason why they couldn't have stayed for a blood draw.

"Thanks, I am tired," Olivia admitted gratefully.

"You have a lot to deal with right now. If you need space, you should let them know."

"I will," she promised.

"I'll tell them you're napping now and to come back tomorrow."

"Thank you," she nodded.

…

"Can I have a quick word?" Elliot asked Amaro awkwardly. He had watched Olivia's current partner step into the men's room, waited outside until he could hear the distinctive sound of running tap water and then stepped inside.

"What is it?" Amaro asked, turning off the tap, reaching for a paper towel and drying his hands carefully.

"It's about Olivia."

"I guessed that much," he replied coldly. The animosity was coming off him in waves, Elliot thought.

"Look, I know you know…how I hurt her when I left…"

"Yep…"

Elliot sighed. This man wasn't making it easy – not that he believed he deserved to have an easy ride, but he was a little surprised at just how angry this guy Amaro was on Olivia's behalf. He realised he respected him a great deal already. If anyone was going to be partnered with her, it should be someone like him: someone who would truly look out for her.

"I was messed up," Elliot continued. "I had just shot a kid. My marriage was ending. I was a mess and I was selfish. It's something I'll always regret."

"Look man. I don't know you. All I know is that she was thrown for a loop after you left – a mess for weeks, months even. I imagine you had your reasons and I am sure she will forgive you if she hasn't already. She's a decent person."

"Yes she is," Elliot said resolutely, interrupting him.

"I can see she wants you back in her life. It's in her eyes, in her face. Just know this. If you hurt her again, I will personally see to it that you regret it, okay?"

Elliot nodded. The threat was empty to a large extent, but he respected the feeling behind it. He was determined that he would never knowingly hurt her again. That much he could promise. He pushed the thought of his comment about Amanda Rollins back in the room out of his mind. It niggled at him, but it was said now. He had no choice but to live with that and just make sure that he never did or said anything else to further hurt her.

"So what did you want to talk to me about?" Amaro asked him, reminding him why he had stepped inside the restroom in the first place.

"It's something she said when we were talking: something that apparently happened last May."

He watched as Amaro's face clouded over, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he realised that it was something much more serious than he had first thought.

"It's her place to tell you about that," Amaro said slowly. "I'm surprised you haven't seen it in the papers though."

"I rarely read them," Elliot said, adding that fact to his steadily growing list of lifelong regrets. "But if it's public knowledge, then surely you can tell me?"

"I really think you ought to talk to her. I feel awkward talking about her behind her back like this. You know she would absolutely hate it."

Elliot nodded reluctantly. That was certainly true.

"I will say one thing though. Being locked in that room like that right now. It's got to be hard for her, harder than she will probably ever admit…"

Elliot stared at Amaro in dismay. Whatever had happened to her? His imagination had already started working overtime. There was an endless supply of memories of past cases involving imprisonment of victims that served as an ample source for any number of terrifying events that his mind could conjure up. He opened his mouth to ask another question but was cut off before he could even make any sound.

"Talk to _her_," Amaro repeated firmly.

"Okay," he said with his stomach in knots. He was convinced now that she had been through some kind of significant ordeal back in May – one that had resulted in her partner's seemingly excessive over-protectiveness of her. It was also chillingly clear that whatever it was, it was worse than what had happened when she had been undercover at Sealview, something that in fact she had only ever in part relayed to him. He wondered what made him think she would talk about this latest event. He had to try though. He was very conscious that he had failed her with Sealview and that was guilt he had carried with him ever since. He had been so absorbed in his new-born baby son and with continuing to get his marriage back on track that he had been all too ready to believe her when she had insisted she was fine. He was determined not to let the same thing happen this time though. It was with sad realization that he recognized now how he had never truly been there for her in the way she had needed, in the way she had deserved. From now on, however, he would be. It was a promise that he determined in that moment to keep no matter the cost.


	6. Chapter 6

6

He knocked twice and slipped back inside the room. Slowly he stepped towards the glass separating them and stopped right in front of it, regarding her silently, a sad, slightly distant expression on his face as he steeled himself for the conversation he intended to have.

"You're making me nervous," she said with a cautious smile. "What's up?"

"I know something happened to you, Liv, something bad. Tell me." He had decided to come straight to the point, knowing otherwise they could be dancing around the issue indefinitely.

"El, please… I'm fine."

"Don't, Liv. Don't lie to me." He didn't miss the surprised expression on her face. He was aware his tone was a little harsh perhaps, but he wanted her to know how seriously he was taking this.

"Where is this coming from? Did Amaro say something to you?"

"No. He wouldn't tell me anything. He told me to talk to you."

He watched her face carefully. He could see the brief flash of relief there, telling him that she was heartened by the fact that her partner hadn't betrayed her. There was something else though: an uncharacteristic air of vulnerability that made his stomach muscles clench. His insides were churning as he continued to press her for the truth.

"He's loyal."

"Yes he is," she replied.

"He seems like a good partner."

"Yes, he is."

Suddenly pensive as once again regrets about the way their partnership had ended swamped him, he turned his gaze to the floor.

"You were a good partner, Elliot," she said. It was as though she had read his mind and had sensed his doubts over that particular matter.

"No I wasn't," he said decisively.

"El…"

"I should have been there for you Liv."

"But you were," she replied quickly, her expression puzzled.

"No I wasn't. I was so wrapped up in my own life. I was selfish. I see that now."

"You have five children," she said carefully.

"I don't intend to make the same mistake again, Liv," he replied fervently, raising his head and meeting her eyes again.

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"I should have been there for you after Sealview. I knew something had happened to you. I should have insisted we talk."

"I didn't want to talk about it, Elliot. It was _my_ decision, not yours."

He looked at her startled. Up until now he had believed her refusal to talk had been simply an attempt to put on a brave face rather than a specific desire to keep things from him. All this time he had chastised himself for not pushing her, imagining that she had taken his lack of insistence as a sign he hadn't cared. What if no matter what he had done, she would have refused to talk to him. What if she hadn't talked to him because she hadn't trusted him?

"It's okay," she offered.

He struggled to fight back the barrage of emotions that were on the verge of overwhelming him.

"I've lost your trust, haven't I?" he said sadly.

"It's not about trust," she said, shaking her head firmly.

"Of course it is."

"No, Elliot. It was about me. It was about me being able to go back to work, hold my head up and continue to be your partner, knowing that you still had faith in me, that you could rely on me to have your back and do my job."

He stared at her in shock as he realized what she was saying. She had been afraid that telling him what had happened would have made her appear weak in his eyes, that he would have lost respect for her ability to do her job.

"Liv, I would never… I mean, whatever happened to you… it's no reflection on your ability as a cop."

"It boils down to the fact that I am vulnerable… as a woman," she continued. He could see she was trying hard to control the quiver of her jaw as she admitted a truth she had fought hard against her whole life. "I always wanted to be seen as an equal, but what happened in there, it showed me that I'm not, that I never will be. It showed me that I am vulnerable and that was hard to take. I couldn't face telling you, knowing that you would think the same, that you would resent being partnered with someone weaker than yourself."

"I never thought that way about you."

"I know and that's why I couldn't tell you."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"Liv, tell me. Did he...did he rape you? Did that bastard Harris rape you?"

His heart sank as he noted her involuntary flinch at his question. He watched as she took a deep breath, obviously steadying herself as she forced herself to look straight back at him. Then she shook her head slowly but firmly, the action immediately sending a wave of relief through him.

"No," she confirmed verbally. "He tried though. He would have if Fin hadn't arrived in time."

"My God Liv… I'm so sorry. I knew he had physically assaulted you. I suspected something more had gone on, but…"

"Don't..."

"It doesn't make me think any differently about you, you know, about your abilities as a cop."

She smiled weakly; no longer able to meet his gaze.

"You were unarmed. It could have happened to me in a male prison."

"Yeah right," she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Of course it could. You know better than anyone that men are just as vulnerable in those places."

He watched as she raised her head again, knowing that she was seriously considering his suggestion perhaps for the first time.

"No one is infallible," he continued. "I mean look at all the times I was injured during the time we were partners. I'm certain my number of hospital visits outweighs yours."

"You gave me a few scares," she said with a slight smile.

"And did that make you question my ability? Did you lose faith in me as your partner?"

"Of course not!"

"As I never have in you… Whatever has happened to you Olivia, I trust you and I respect you. Nothing could change that. Not Harris, not whatever happened to you last May. Nothing."

He watched as the tears begin to slowly slide down her cheeks, conscious of the visible struggle in her eyes. He knew she hated revealing so much of herself like this. He hoped his words would go some way to making her feel more at ease. Throughout their partnership, the way she had pushed him away, refusing to let him see certain things had always been a barrier between them. He knew she had always worried he had doubted her strength, but he had believed she had known that he respected and valued her as his partner. Once again though the words he had angrily flung at her after Gitano had slain the little boy resonated in his head. The look of hurt in her eyes had remained with him ever since. It was impossible even for him to forget the way he had accused her of needing him to come to the rescue and so he knew she hadn't either. He understood how much it had affected their partnership. Since then she had been determined not to give him any reason to ever think like that again.

"What happened to you in May?" he asked again, forcing his mind back to the present and determined to get an answer this time.

He watched her intently as she briefly closed her eyes, noting the flash of pure pain that crossed her features and he wondered if she would actually tell him the truth. His imagination had already run wild and he dreaded hearing her answer, but he had to know. Whatever it was, it was obviously significant and if they were to move forward, he needed to understand what had changed her so dramatically, for there was something different about her. She wasn't the same person as the one he had walked away from three years ago.

"I don't know how to tell you," she said finally.

"Just start at the beginning," he encouraged her gently.

"Okay," she breathed, pausing again. "…This isn't easy."

"It's okay, take your time." He hated the fact that his voice now sounded the way it had when he had been talking to the victims. Surely she couldn't be one? What was he thinking though? Of course she was. Everything about her screamed it out. He had worked far too long in the field to miss the signs.

She nodded slowly and then began to speak.

"We had a perp, a serial torture murder-rapist, a complete psycho in fact. Well I got under his skin during the interview process and after he was released on a technicality, he came after me."

"Go on," Elliot said, his heart sinking. He already had a million questions, but he knew it was important she tell the story on her own terms. The words 'torture-rapist' resonated repeatedly in his head though, turning his blood cold.

"Cragen sent me home for a couple of days. I stopped by the grocery store and headed home… and when I got home, he was there. He had a gun. He… I mean, there was nothing I could do. He took me by surprise. I froze."

"You don't have to explain yourself. The guy was in your apartment, armed."

"I know, but I heard a noise, El. It was a split second before he stepped out. I should have reached for my gun. I should have…"

"Come on, you don't need me to tell you to stop blaming yourself for this."

"I know, but I'm not a civilian. I'm a cop. I shouldn't have let it happen."

"You didn't let anything happen. You know that."

"I thought he was going to just kill me at first. My brain was fixated on the gun. I was just waiting for him to pull the trigger."

"But he didn't," Elliot said slowly, seeing her struggle for words and unable to ignore his desire to help her out somehow, in whatever small way he could. This whole conversation was absolutely heartbreaking.

"No, he didn't," she said heavily. Even now, sometimes part of her wished he had. When she woke from a nightmare, her entire body shaking, her heart racing, every nerve ending seemingly on fire, her mind screaming at her that things would never get better, that she would be haunted and terrified for the rest of her life, it was something she occasionally thought about: if only he had pulled the trigger then.

"I'm glad," Elliot said resolutely.

Their eyes met and seeing his absolute resolve, his compassion, his desire to listen and understand no matter what it was she told him; somehow it gave her the will, the strength to continue.

"He cuffed me with my own handcuffs and tied me to a chair." He could hear the numb tone as she said the words telling him that she was dissociating; obviously a coping mechanism for a trauma she had still not yet properly begun to come to terms with. "Then he began to tell me everything he planned to do to me... in great detail."

"Shit, Liv," Elliot whispered. Tears glistened in his eyes as he continued to stare straight at her, struggling to accept what she was telling him, unwilling to look away and risk for a second that she fear he wasn't ready to be there for her and hear it all, every last detail if necessary. He wasn't running away from this, however hard it was.

He watched her apprehensively as she got to her feet and stepped closer to the glass so that she was standing right in front of him. Then slowly her fingers began to pull her gown downwards slightly, slowly exposing her upper chest. Despite his near panic as for a moment he wondered what on earth she could possibly be doing, he kept his eyes trained on her, sensing her silent permission to look. Then he understood her purpose as he took in the myriad of angry red scars that were forever etched onto her skin and he gasped, the tears now swimming in his eyes, blurring his vision.

"No... Oh God, Liv, no," he whispered, unable to keep the sheer devastated horror out of his voice. How could this have happened? Why had he left her? How the hell could she even face him now? Surely she must hate him for leaving her to this fate?

She pulled her gown back upwards, covering up her exposed skin once more. He had only caught a glimpse. He couldn't help but wonder how much more damage had been done further down. He leaned forward, placing his head against the cool glass of the window, closing his eyes briefly, desperately wishing he could reach for her, wrap her in his arms, as though that could somehow diminish her suffering. His heart was breaking right now. She didn't deserve to be locked up in that tiny room alone, not after everything she had been through.

"How long did he…did he hold you captive?" he asked. It wasn't the real question burning on the tip of his tongue, but it seemed safer to avoid the main issue, the question of whether or not she had been violated in the worst way. Besides it seemed unlikely that she had escaped that fate given what he knew now.

"Four days," she replied.

"_Four_ days?" he repeated slowly, clenching his eyes shut as the reality hit.

"He didn't rape me, Elliot."

"What?" Was she lying? Was she trying to protect him from the truth?

"I don't know why," she continued. "Maybe he needed me to submit in order to do it. I really don't know. It's something I often ask myself. It was personal though. He wanted me to suffer."

"It doesn't matter, Liv. He still violated you."

"I know," she said shakily. "He threatened me, he burned me, he…he physically and… sexually… assaulted me. I witnessed him murder two other people: he shot them at point-blank range, right in front of me and he forced me to watch as he raped and tortured a middle-aged woman. My eventual rape was his endgame. After that he was going to kill me. I know that."

"How the hell are you still able to do that job?" he asked heavily. "After what happened to you? How could you possibly face going back?"

"How could I not? How could I walk away, knowing what it's like to be in their shoes? How could I abandon them? They need someone to listen, to understand? Who better than me, especially now?"

"You need to take care of yourself, Liv." Someone needs to take care of you.

"All I need is to continue doing my job. I refuse to let that _animal_ take my job away from me. I'm good at what I do. I help people. He's taken so much. I won't let him take that, I won't."

"I understand that, but, Liv, there are other ways you can help. You don't have to put yourself out there like that anymore."

"I thought you of all people would understand why I can't abandon them, especially now."

"I do. I get it. I just… I'm worried about you."

"It might all be a moot point anyway now!" she said wistfully.

"You're going to be fine, Liv. You hear me? Even if you do get sick, you'll beat it. After everything you've been through and survived, you can get through this, I promise."

"No, Elliot. Not this time. You don't understand."

"Don't talk like that. What's wrong with you? I've never known you to give up!"

"This strain of smallpox: it's bad."

"Yeah you said… even so…"

"It's a hemorrhagic strain, El. The death rate is nearly one hundred percent."

"What?" he stammered as he took in what she was saying.

"I'm sorry. That's the truth. If I get it, then I'm going to die. Why do you think they have me locked up in here?"

"That can't be right. I've never heard of a disease that lethal."

"I'm not making it up!" she said indignant that he might doubt her word. "It's a rare strain"

"Hey, I wasn't accusing you of lying. It's just a lot to take in. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry."

"Liv, you're going to be fine, alright? I believe that."

"El, please don't. I'm a grown woman, not a child. I have to face the possibility…"

"I'm going to be here for you, Liv. Whatever happens! I promise you that, okay? You don't have to go through any of this alone. Do you understand? I'm not going anywhere."

She nodded as she mouthed a silent thank you, her teeth clamping down on her bottom lip as she tried to hold back the tears. The truth was she was terrified. She desperately wished she could fall into his arms, let him comfort her, allow herself to give in and ignore her tendency to push people away in the name of independence and appearing tough to the outside world. She felt like her insides were shred to pieces, that she was barely holding it together. Would it really be so bad to feel the arms of a man she loved around her and allow him to hold her up for once?

She couldn't help the slight twinge of guilt that hit her as she thought of Brian. Part of her hoped he would remain busy at work over the next few days and that thought made her uncomfortable. It would certainly be better to keep the pair apart as long as possible though, she decided and she wasn't about to turn Elliot away. She needed him. She always had.


	7. Chapter 7

7

"Hey you," he said as he slipped inside the room.

"Brian!" she exclaimed, surprised for she hadn't been expecting him. Elliot had slipped out to make a couple of phone calls and get some lunch literally two minutes earlier. Had they run into each other in the corridor? She dreaded the thought, although the amount of time Elliot was spending here, it was probably inevitable at some point she supposed. Even so, part of her had been hoping to avoid needing to mention that fact to Brian. She imagined he might be slightly put out to find out her ex-partner was hanging around a lot more than he was, especially as he had no idea they were even back in contact. She had to admit there was a part of her that wanted him to know that Elliot was managing to find the time to keep her company unlike him, but ultimately she decided the last thing she needed now was an argument.

"I managed to slip away for an hour or so," he said with a huge grin, his tone light and breezy, as though he had not a care in the world. She imagined it was an attempt to be positive for her, but somehow it just annoyed her. How could he waltz in here acting like everything was all hunky dory when she could possibly have less than two weeks left on earth of which he was planning on spending the majority of his time working?

"Great," she said unable to muster up much enthusiasm in her tone.

"What's up with you?" he retorted, obviously put out that she wasn't acting a little more pleased to see him.

"Nothing," she replied, stifling the sigh that would have revealed her real state of mind.

"Good," he said, making her wonder slightly at his willingness to immediately accept her word. Surely the man could see she was going crazy in here? Maybe he couldn't though? He didn't really seem to have really taken in what all this meant. His rose-colored glasses were obviously firmly planted in front of his eyes. It was as though he considered the whole isolation procedure an annoying piece of red-tape rather than an actual serious health risk.

"How's work?" she asked, deciding she may as well play along with the illusion that everything was just fine and normal. She decided she wasn't really in the mood to talk about anything too heavy anyway. Not now.

"Good," he said excitedly. "We're getting close to making a breakthrough on the case, you know and the timing is perfect. I really need to make a good impression and the way things are going, they are definitely going to take notice and start taking me seriously."

"That's great Brian," she said, forcing a cheerful smile.

"Some of the guys have invited me out for drinks tomorrow tonight," he continued. "I'm starting to feel like they're accepting me as an equal member of the team."

"Tomorrow? Your day off?"

"Uh huh. Well, the guys have booked tickets to a game in the afternoon and then after we're going out for drinks."

"I see."

"Hey, are you alright with it? I know I said I'd pop by, but I couldn't really say no. This is finally my chance to get in with the guys properly."

"It's fine. Go. Enjoy yourself."

"Thanks, Liv. Have I ever told you, you're the best girlfriend?"

"Nope."

"Well you are."

"So will I see you at all tomorrow?"

"We'll be working late tonight. That's why I came now actually."

"Right."

"So, by the time I get home and showered and get some sleep, well, it'll be afternoon. I could set my alarm early and pop by at lunch time if you like though?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Don't be like that. Now I feel guilty."

"Don't. Honestly, I'll be fine. Some of the guys from work are planning to swing by anyway. I'll have company."

"Are you sure?"

"Course," she said with a smile.

"I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Honestly, it's not a problem Brian. You've been waiting for this moment. I understand."

"I love you!"

"Me too."

The words came naturally, but she found herself unable to maintain eye contact as she couldn't help but wonder how long Elliot would be. She really wasn't relishing the idea of the two running into each other.

"What's this?" she heard him asking, bringing her focus back to the present.

Startled, she glanced towards where he was pointing and smiled as she remembered the bag Elliot had brought in. She still had no idea what he had bought her. The day before, she had asked one of the nurses to pass her the bag through the airlock, but the nurse had reminded her that anything she received would probably need to be incinerated. Neither she nor Elliot had remembered that fact. Once the nurse had left, she had begged Elliot to at least show her the gift, but he had suddenly turned strangely shy and refused. It was so unlike him, that her curiosity was now thoroughly piqued. Something told her though that asking Brian to show her what was inside was probably not the most sensible course of action.

"It's just some soap and a few other boring things that one of the team brought me," she said casually, almost surprising herself by how easily the lie fell from her lips. There had been a time when she would have never been able to pull it off quite so calmly, but years in a field such as the one she worked in had long ago taught her that sometimes deception was necessary… if not downright humane.

"Oh right," he said easily, clearly not seeing anything unusual about her statement.

"You know if you need to get back, that's okay. I'm pretty tired anyway. I didn't get much sleep last night."

"You didn't?" he asked, his expression immediately showing concern and reminding her that he really did care about her in his own way. He was a good man.

"I don't know why. It was just one of those nights," she said with a shrug.

"Nightmares?"

"No. Just plain old insomnia," she replied wistfully. It was true her nights were still more often than not plagued by memories, some real, some wildly contorted, of her ordeal back in May. Brian had sat with her through many a dark hour, stroking her back, listening when she wanted to talk, remaining silently by her side when she didn't. He had been there for her, without a doubt. It made her feel all the more guilty whenever her thoughts wandered back to Elliot and it had actually been this which had kept her awake the previous night. She could hardly tell Brian that though, could she?

"Well you should get plenty of rest. When you get out of here, I'm planning on getting a couple of days off and taking you away for the weekend."

"Oh you are, are you?" she said with a grin, enjoying the insinuation in his tone. It made her feel for a few seconds that things were normal.

"Yup. You need a weekend of pampering to get your mind off everything."

"That does sound nice," she murmured, ignoring the voice in the back of her mind that questioned the potential effectiveness of one pleasant weekend to truly combat the awful experiences she had been through over the last few months.

"I'll see you the day after tomorrow then."

"See you then. Take care."

"You too," he said blowing her a kiss which she returned.

And he left. She glanced at the clock on the wall. He had stayed less than fifteen minutes.

* * *

"Hi, I'm back!"

"Hi."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Don't give me that! What's happened?"

"I told you nothing is wrong," she repeated, but she was pleased at his persistence. At least he was willing to be more realistic about the whole situation and as a result recognize her mood more adeptly.

"I'm sorry I was gone so long."

"El, you've been here pretty much all day every day since you first showed up. I don't begrudge you a couple of hours for lunch!"

"But I never intended to be quite so long. I got caught up in a mess Dickie got himself into."

"Nothing serious I hope?"

"Just an incident at college: he got into a fight and as a result of the scuffle some property got damaged, but since he felt the fight wasn't his fault, he was strongly disputing the fact that he should be made to pay his half of the damage.

"Did you manage to sort it out?"

"Yeah, I pointed out that even if he didn't start the fight, he participated in it. He wasn't too happy with the situation, but I managed to convince him to take responsibility and he agreed to pay his share.

"So in other words you put your foot down."

"Guess I still have some influence," he shrugged.

"You'll always have influence. You're his father. He respects you."

"Sometimes I wonder…"

"He does, El."

She caught his grateful smile. She knew things had been rocky between him and his son as he had hit his mid to late teens and she had hoped they had come to a better understanding over the last three years. Dickie was a good kid. The problem was they were both too alike in a lot of ways: certainly stubborn.

"I ran into someone I didn't expect to in the corridor when I left," he said suddenly. She froze.

"You did?" She could feel her heart rate quicken as she realized the meeting she had dreaded appeared to now be a reality.

"Brian Cassidy!" he announced, his tone revealing that he clearly expected her to show some modicum of surprise on hearing that name.

"Oh right," she said slowly, shifting uncomfortably on the bed.

"You don't seem surprised."

"El, I… there's something I haven't told you actually."

"There is?"

"It's about Brian. He, er, I ran into him a while back and we got back in touch."

"Okay," he said, watching her carefully. She sighed. It appeared she was going to have to spell it out for him.

"You know I told you the other day how I was seeing someone..." She watched his face as he finally understood the connection.

"You mean that someone is Brian?" he said incredulously. "You're seeing Cassidy?"

She nodded.

"Wow!"

"What does that mean?"

"I just figured it would be someone I didn't know, someone you met outside the job. I don't know, anyone but Cassidy."

"He's a good man, El."

"I know but come on, back when we worked with him and you guys had that 'thing', you just didn't seem that interested."

"That was a long time ago. People change. Things change."

"It's just…. I don't know… Brian?"

"He's been there for me El. Even after everything that happened. He's stayed with me. Even though I…" with her eyes downcast she stopped mid-sentence, suddenly realizing what she had been about to say. Telling Elliot about her and Brian's non-existent sex-life was hardly an appropriate subject matter. The truth was she was still unable to face getting that intimate. Brian had been remarkably understanding about the situation, telling her that he loved her and wanted to be with her in whatever form she was able to be. They snuggled, hugged, even kissed, but ever since Lewis had scarred her body, she had been self-conscious about being naked in front of him and the thought of taking things any further still made her close to a state of panic.

"Liv," Elliot whispered, his eyes emanating a compassion and empathy for her that made her want to both run a mile at the same time as reach out for him and never let go.

"Can we change the subject, please," she begged, knowing she was close to breaking down in front of him yet again. What was the matter with her? Her emotions were all over the place.

"You bear no shame, Liv," he said. "None of this is your fault."

"I know that," she replied quickly.

"I know you 'know' it, but you still don't feel it, do you?"

"Please, El…"

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"For questioning you and for questioning your relationship with Cassidy. I was out of order. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I expected you to be surprised… You should have seen Munch's reaction."

He echoed her smile. He could imagine exactly what his ex-colleague would have had to say on the subject.

"Have you told him?"

"Told who what?" she asked innocently, suspecting that he was referring to mention of the fact to Brian that Elliot had been spending almost every waking hour by her side ever since he had first turned up.

"Cassidy. Have you told him I have been visiting?"

"Does it matter?"

"You haven't, have you?"

"I will."

He nodded, his eyes never leaving her face.


End file.
